


The Tribulations of One Cat and His Brother

by TheGreenestGreenToEverGreen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (ha ha), AU, Excessive Cuteness, Fluff, Gen, Happy Ending, Not Canon Compliant, Pictures, children's story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 10:13:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11895555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreenestGreenToEverGreen/pseuds/TheGreenestGreenToEverGreen
Summary: Despite his hard start in life, Dean was a scrappy young cat and an excellent hunter. A notorious loner, he went where he pleased and never backed down from a fight. But he wasn't much more than a kitten himself, when he adopted a young orphan named Sam.Sam however, was the worst cat in the world! With those stupid floppy ears, long slobbering tongue, persistently wagging tail and absolutely no sense of coordination! And the kid just didn't seem to want to stop growing!Even still, the brothers grew up thick as thieves, them against the world, nothing could ever come between them - that is until old Yellow Eyes came sniffing around.





	The Tribulations of One Cat and His Brother

**Author's Note:**

> -This story was inspired by a photo I came across, (the cat and the puppy giving each other a strange look) and is meant to be read like a children's story along with the pictures. (If they don't show up please let me know) - I do not own or make commercial use of any of the pictures, they are all open source.  
> -Sam is some kind of Labrador Retriever mix, Dean is a street cat of questionable heritage, Azazel is a Fox and Castiel is a Russian Blue - any errors are mine, I am an enthusiast not an expert.  
> -The tale is overly simplistic to fit with the pictures and I have totally mangled canon - and I am not even sorry!
> 
> -As usual unbeta’d so apologies for all my grammatical errors.

\-----oOo-----

Dean had never known his father. His mother said he had just been some back-alley Tom cat, passing through. It didn't really matter, because Dean’s mother had been the best in the world! The best hunter, the best scrounger, the best scrapper. Dean had been the only surviving kitten from a litter of 3, and with her undivided attention, his mother had taught him all the basics about how to excel in the cutthroat world of concrete suburbia on the edge of downtown.

He never did find out what had killed her, all he knew was that one night she just never come home. He had still been a tiny kitten at that point, the world a big scary place. But with determination, that was soon to become one of his core characteristics, he had set out alone to forge his own path.

Life hadn't been easy, but Dean had persevered. He soon knew all the secret paths and hidden crevasse that allowed him to move through the back streets with ease. He knew the best places to find scraps, the best hollows that held clean drinking water. He was quick and light on his feet and could stalk and catch anything from a mouse to a pigeon. And he never backed down from a fight. Pretty soon all the other stray cats in the area knew to steer clear as he sauntered proudly down the sidewalk. The house pets, secluded in their mysterious life inside their human’s building, just watched through their windows with fear, they wouldn't even attempt to make eye contact. He was the king of the world. And (though he said so himself) a massive hit with the ladies. What more could a feller want?

\-----oOo-----

It was one fine spring day, nothing much going on, when Dean was prowling downtown, that a strange scent hit his nose. Fire. Something very large was burning. As with every wild animal ever, Dean felt an instinctive frisson of fear. But he was also a contrary and stubborn young cat, one who refused to allow himself to be controlled by his fears. So stiffening his resolve he turned his steps in the direction others would seek to avoid.

Pretty soon it became clear what the cause was. A small apartment building had caught on fire, flames bellowing out of its windows - the humans were busy running around, bustling, doing whatever human do at such times. Their loud metal beasts were making ungainly wailing noises in their distress. The coloured lights that perched on their heads, flashing painfully even in the daylight.

It was far too much commotion and danger for idle curiosity, and Dean was about to turn and leave when a tiny sound caught his ear.

Across the road away from all the adventure, a small animal was shivering in the mud under some bushes, (it reeked of smoke), and it was staring intently back into the flames, a whine of distress coming unceasingly from its throat.

It was one of the ugliest cats Dean had ever seen. Its ears didn't stand up straight, its head was too broad, its nose too long, and its legs were short and thick.

Nethertheless Dean wasn't one to ignore the distress of a kitten. “You okay kid?” The other didn't answer, just continued staring at the commotion and whining. Not knowing what else to do, Dean settled himself next to the strange little guy, and they both continued to watch the bustle.

Long hours passed and the sky began to get dark. The fire had stopped and most of the humans had left. Still the kid kept his eyes on the ruined building. Dean was starting to understand.

“Look kid,” he said gruffly but gently. “I don't know who you were waiting for. But there ain't anything else coming out of that building.” The eyes that were turned to him, were devastating in their sadness. “Here now, don’t look at me like that. Why don't ya come with me. I know a good spot where we can find us some food, and a comfy place out of the way where you can get some rest. You’ll feel better after food and sleep.” The other didn’t seemed particularly cheered by the prospect, but it seemed that lacking any better solutions, it was willing to follow along.

“So kid, ya got a name?” Dean asked as they began to move off. And the other answered for the first time, in a quiet voice. “Sam.”

\-----oOo-----

Sam was the worst cat in the world! Dean would show him time and time again how to stalk in silence, how to pounce swift and sudden, how to catch mice and birds. Sam would watch patiently, his dopey tongue lolling out of his mouth, his tail wagging slightly behind him. Then he would charge head first into the grass, ears flapping, slobber flying - and as the birds took flight in plenty of time, he would bound in circles while shouting at them to come back. Upon realising that they were now out of reach Sam would then select a stick to bring back to Dean, proud at his accomplishment.

It was utterly infuriating. But no matter how much Dean scolded, the kid didn’t seem repentant and never seemed to learn, he just grinned and bumbled along. It was a good job that the humans seemed to think the weird looking cat was worthy of pity.

When the unlikely pair hung around the back of the food houses, Sam always seemed to get loads of attention and extra scraps. One time they even got some strange kind of sweet fruity mash wrapped in some yellow crumbly cover, and though Dean normally didn't like sweet things, that thing was AWESOME.

But they also had to be careful, sometimes the humans would try to snatch Sam up and steal him. Luckily, for all his lack of coordination, Sam was a fast runner, and many a time the two scampered away before the humans with long sticks and rope could capture them and feed them to their metal beasts.

And so despite Sam’s obvious afflictions, life was good. I mean sure Sam was never going to master the art of stalking along a roof top, or climbing a tree, but the kid was loyal, strong and brave. It was the two of them against the world. Before long Dean considered him a brother - one that he loved more than his own life and one who loved him back just as fiercely. Two lonely creatures who had known so much hardship, found happiness in each other. Of course it would help if the kid would stop growing!

  
As time moved on Sam grew bigger and stronger. They took to moving around mostly at night for it seemed that Sam’s enormous size attracted too much attention from the humans. And while most of Dean’s smarts were street-smarts, he wasn’t actually dumb. He had gradually come to the conclusion that Sam was in fact NOT a cat. Turned out he was mostly likely one of those dog animals - the ones that liked to take humans out for exercise in the grass spaces. It hadn’t occurred to him before because you never saw a dog without their human trailing after them - it must be some sort of rule. And it explained why they always seemed so keen to try and steal Sammy away.

Still Dean was a good cat and he wasn’t racist, he would continue to love his brother no matter what he was. Besides the feller was handy in a fight - if more for his intimidating size then his (lack of) aggression.

\-----oOo-----

Things had been happily trundling along for some time before Sam started having bad dreams. When they were curled up for the day, under the small metal houses with the interesting smells - he would start whimpering and whining in his sleep, his eyes twitching and his paws scrabbling against nothing. When Dean woke him up by batting at his face, and asked what was wrong, he could never remember. All he would talk about were the mysterious yellow eyes that followed him into his waking hours. Dean would give him a thorough tongue bath to comfort him, purring loudly enough to drown out Sam’s thoughts, and the brothers would try and put the event behind them. But the dreams still kept coming.  
  


-

One cold dark night, a few months later, the pair met the fox for the first time. Now foxes were cunning and sly. You could often see them slinking along a wall in the depths of the night, or rummaging in the metal contains the humans filled with scraps. But you hardly ever came face to face with one, they were quick to slip away, avoiding confrontation. This one however seemed different.

Azazel was bold and daring. His face sharp with intelligence and unhindered by fear. His eyes glinting gold when they caught the gleam of a street lamp or a passing car. And that first time that they met, he sat in the middle of the path calmly watching the two brothers approach. He sat proud, ears erect, head held high - with his tail curled neatly around his feet. Somehow giving off the air of calm indifference, only the smallest twitch in the tip of his tail giving lie to his casual pose.

“Well, well, well.” The voice was smooth and cultured. “What marvel do I see before me this strange night?”

Sam and Dean halted, surprised to be addressed - Dean pushing slightly in front, the fur on his tail bristling. Sam merely sat down and stared perplexed.

“You do realise don't you, what a sight you two make? You are supposed to be natural enemies, but here you saunter, calm as you please, a cat out for a stroll with a dog.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked. “Why would we be enemies?” Dean however didn’t seem to be in a talking mood, he was too busy growling at the fox.

“Well,” the fox replied slyly to the dog, totally ignoring the cat, “such a strong handsome fellow as yourself. You do realise don't you, that you are the top of the food chain. Cats have to do what you say. That's why they all flee before you. The only animals in the city which don't dow down to dogs, are humans themselves.”

Sam was more puzzled than convinced. Sure most of the other cats ran away from him and Dean, but that was because they knew better than to mess with such a fearsome pair.

Dean wasn’t so considering - he was so bristled that he had almost doubled in size. “Listen arsehat,” Dean grated in a firm yowl, green eyes fixed in a glare, “Whatever you’re selling, we ain't buying. I don't know what you want with my brother, but whatever it is you ain't getting it.”

Now Azazel delighted in confrontation and stirring up trouble, however he wasn't a fool, he knew when to pick his battles. Lazily he rose to his feet and turned to casually stroll away, his tail held high, but still he looked back over his shoulder. “You just be sure to think on my words. I’m sure that I’ll see you again.”

-

From then on it seemed that whenever the pair ventured out they would run into Azazel at some point or other. Always the fox had a sly word or sharp glance to offer, mixing advice and strange compliments. But when Dean grew angry, he would never stuck around long enough for a confrontation. Always sauntering away with a sly parting comment.

\-----oOo-----

Sam was walking the streets by himself this night. It wasn't something that he often did, but Dean had caught the eye of a sleek young lady cat behind one of the food houses. Once he had began to serenade his intended, Sam had decided that a walk would be in order, and had left the lovebirds to their adventures.

He was feeling unsettled. He had been having more dreams of late. All he could remember was yellow eyes, and Dean in trouble running through the streets searching in distress, and then some kind of fight. The dreams were not clear and made him uneasy.

Now Sam was not a stupid animal, he was in fact extremely intelligent. He was often far quicker then Dean to puzzle out strange human behavior or understand the purpose of one of their contraptions. But what he was, was a Labrador. He fundamentally believed in the good within everything he saw. Which was why when Azazel came running shouting that Dean was in trouble, it did not even occur to Sam that Azazel lied. Combined with his lingering dreams, it was enough to send him tearing off after Azazel, brain not engaged.

Azazel led him on a merry chase long through the night, calling for him to hurry and come quick, and often the dog would lose sight of the fox, but it always appeared back around a corner spurring him on. Until finally Sam looked up and realised that not only had he lost track of the fox, but that he was no longer in the city. He was surrounded by woods and had no idea where he was or how to get home.  
  


Dean had had a very nice time with his lady friend, he had boasted loudly about his prowess to the night, he should have been in a wonderful mood. The problem was he couldn't find Sam. The kid wasn't under the porch where they had been sleeping the last few days, he wasn't behind any of the food houses, he wasn't in the grass spaces chasing squirrels, he wasn’t at ANY of their usual hangouts. It wasn't like him to wonder off, and the sun was coming up soon and Dean was worried.

Dean didn't get any sleep that next day, he searched high and low calling for Sam, but though he listened as hard as he could, he never heard the flap of stupid ears or a lolling tongue, that would indicate the stupid idiot was bounding towards him. He was grumpy and frustrated by the time he heard a deep voice ask him what EXACTLY he was trying to accomplish.  
  


\-----oOo-----

Castiel had been observing the street cat run frantically back and forth for some time. Technically Castiel was a pet. Such things meant little to him though. His favourite pastime was sauntering along the rooftops observing the world below. It was such a complex and intriguing place; the bustle of humans in their pointless and circular endeavors, the rude clash of lower animals as they struggled in their existence, the turn of the seasons ignoring them all.

There was nothing better than to lay on a roof in a nice patch of sun and calmly observe all this chaos. Of course when he became hungry he would go to the dwelling and order his human to provide him with sustenance, but his human was good and obedient and Castiel would soon after be exiting through the window, scaling the fire escape and returning to languid contemplation of the world.

For some reason though, he was intrigued by the antics of this cat. It was the one he had often observed in the company of the dog. But now it was alone and obviously in some distress, but what it hoped to accomplish with this undignified commotion, he had no idea.  
  


With an unhurried stretch Castiel rose from his vantage point and calmly made his way down towards the other, before wondering out loud what EXACTLY the other was about.

Blue eyes met green.  
  


Now Dean was not automatically trustful of other cats. Street life was hard and it was every cat for himself, (unless of course love was in the air then a temporary truce was called) but the cat that was currently addressing him didn't seem interested in that just now. In fact he seemed haughty and slightly obnoxious, and looked to be one of those house cats. Dean especially didn't trust house cats - with their soft easy lives and their lack of wild instinct. But even still, something about this creature caught his attention.

Dean gave the other his best menacing stare when he answered. (He still had a reputation to uphold after all.)

“I’m looking for my brother, have you seen him?”  
  


Castiel didn’t seem in the least bit intimidated. “Brother? You realise of course that your ‘brother’ -” (Castiel’s tail lashed as he said the word) “ is a dog?” he added mildly, “it's almost obscene.”

“Listen arsehat.” Dean said - the other blinked at the term, “I didn't ask for your opinion, I asked if you had seen him.”

Now Castiel could have chosen to be offended at the obvious posturing of this lesser cat, but the sheer peculiarity of the whole situation intrigued him. Also he had no love for the fox, whom he had observed the night before, leading the dog out of the city.

With a tilt of his head and unblinking eyes Castiel contemplated the other for long moments. The green eyes didn't blink or back down. And in the way of cats, this might have continued on for ever, but Castiel made up his mind and with a flick of his tail, rose gracefully to his feet. In a mild voice he said, “I will take you to your brother, but might I suggest that you show me a little more respect, if you wish for my assistance.”  
  


Dean had eyed the other uncertainly as it turned and began to walk away, picking its path and placing its feet as if it found the very pavement distasteful. It didn’t halt or look back, totally unconcerned whether Dean followed or not. And in the absence of any other options Dean found himself stalking behind. It didn't stop him from grumbling and angrily lashing his tail the whole way.

When the path that the other was taking began to lead out of the city, Dean stopped sulking and started to pay attention. Eyes scanned every corner, ears flicked to catch every sound, and Dean held himself proud and walked strong. This was unknown territory and the best defense was offence. Castiel still seemed unconcerned however, picking his way with calm indifference. Until finally they stood on the edge of the city looking out into the woods beyond.

Dean had never before left the city. For all his disdain for house cats, and the fact that he proudly considered himself wild - all he actually knew was the concrete jungle. However the land before him was not like the grass spaces where the dogs walked their humans, this land was actually wild. It caused him to worry.

“Are you sure that Sam is out there?” he asked Castiel, who had sat to calmly lick one paw while he waited.

“This is where the fox goes when he leaves the city” the other answered, “Where he led the dog from here, I do not know.”

There was of course nothing more to be discussed and raising up, Dean began to move into the trees calling for Sam. He halted when he realised that he was alone. Turning to look back at the other cat who had not moved he said, “Well, come on arsehat, I can’t do this alone.”

And Castiel had no idea why he got up and followed the other into the woods, but he did.

\-----oOo-----

It took long hours of searching before the unlikely pair of cats picked up the sharp scent of the fox, and following it they came at last to a clearing where one tired dog was huddled at the side of a lake.  
  


On seeing his brother, Dean yowled in joy (though he would never admit it) and streaked across the clearing to be engulfed in an enthusiastic ball of slobbering, whining, tail wagging joy.

Castiel of course stood back and watched the bizarre display with confusion. Truly this was the oddest pair he had ever encountered. Still there was something strangely…… endearing about the whole thing.

However the cat didn't allow himself to be distracted, for the scent of fox was still sharp in the air. Turning piercing blue eyes away from the tumbling joy of the brothers, Castiel scanned the undergrowth till he discovered the fox. It had been hiding in the bushes, merrily observing the misery of the dog, but was now clearly about to slink away once more.

“Excuse me, Assbutt.” Castiel addressed the fox (entirely failing to correctly apply Dean’s mannerisms, but totally unconcerned by the fact.)

Dean and Sam stopped at the noise and turned their attention to see whom the cat was addressing.

Castiel continued calmly. “I am not sure these two brothers here appreciate your humour.”

And indeed they did not.

Dean was enraged at the sight of the fox who had stolen his brother, and even Sam who was normally so placid, had been tired, cold and lost for long enough to bring his anger to the surface.

Dean launched himself at the fox in a hissing, screaming ball of fur. Sam barred his fangs and speed after, an awful snarl pouring from his throat.

  


The fox tried to turn tail and run, but no matter which way he turned, one or other of the brothers caught him. And they whipped him soundly between them, till at last greatly wounded and thoroughly cowed, the fox slunk away in defeat, never to return to the city again.  
  


Luckily for the brothers Castiel had an excellent sense of direction, and once all the commotion had settled, he picked their path back through the woods - with exactly the same fastidious care with which he had picked his way along the sidewalk.

\-----oOo-----

It was sunset that evening and the unlikely trio were once more within familiar confines. Sam wanted nothing more then to find a warm quiet patch and curl up about his brother and finally get some sleep. Dean was in total agreement, but with possibly the addition of finding some food first.

Turning to their companion, Dean licked his lips nervously, before admitting: “You know, I couldn't have found Sam without your help.” He said, “Sam means everything to me. So thank you.”

The other just stared back with calm blue eyes and said. “What an enigma you are.”

And Castiel nonchalantly turned, leaping gracefully to the top of a wall, heading for the roof top. But his calm voice had drifted back. “I wouldn’t be opposed if you call on me, next time you feel like an adventure.”

Everyone knows house cats are crazy, but Dean supposed Castiel proved they weren’t all THAT bad - still you couldn't really compare them, it's not their fault that they weren’t proper, awesome, wild cats - like him and Sam.

FIN

  



End file.
